Baby Jessica: 15 years later
MIDLAND More than 15 years have passed since Midlander Jessica McClure fell down a backyard well and a local story turned into an international vigil as the world anxiously followed news of the rescue efforts.
The image of an 18-month-old girl wedged in a well beneath the earth for nearly 60 hours-- all alone and singing about Winnie the Pooh-- was, it seemed, more than almost anyone could bear.
People counted the hours, everyone knowing full well what each passing hour meant but no one wanting to say it out loud.
There was a toddler nobody could see trapped in a dark, tight space underground, and there was a mass of men and machinery squeezed into the backyard of 3309 Tanner Drive working against the clock to get her out.
And when Jessica was at last pulled from darkness into light and rescue workers gathered around her, an Odessa American photographer named Scott Shaw captured the moment in a photograph that would win the Pulitzer Prize.
The men covered in dirt and sweat gazed at the tiny, gauze-swathed treasure, their faces full of weariness and wonder. She was safe. It was over. The world breathed a huge sigh of relief and moved on to other concerns.
But many people still want to know about Jessica, said Donna Johnson and Cedie Proctor, Jessica's paternal aunts who live in Greenwood.
"When the 10th anniversary of the rescue was close, the producers of that TV show Whatever Happened To?' wanted to do a story about Jessica because they had asked viewers for names of people whose stories they would like to see on the show, and Jessica's name was at the top of the list," Johnson said.
But Chip and Cissy McClure, Jessica's parents, avoided talking to the media once the initial rush of interviews was over, hoping to keep their daughter out of the spotlight.
Still, people wondered what became of the girl in the well.
Proctor said in the early years after the event, she heard plenty of tall tales about her younger brother's family while she was standing in line at the grocery store.
"People didn't know that I was Chip's sister," she said, "and I'll never forget overhearing someone talking about extravagant shopping trips and limousine rides. There was a rumor that Cissy and Jessica had matching fur coats. I told that person none of that stuff was true and I knew what I was talking about because I was Jessica's aunt, and she just looked at me like I was some kind of crackpot."
One made-for-television movie and several years later, the sensational stories have faded, but the interest is still there.
"I guess it's natural for people to wonder how she's doing and what she looks like now that she's a teenager," Proctor said. "People from all over the world called us and told us they were praying for her. I just want to let them know that she's a normal girl, that she's well and happy, and that their prayers were answered."
There's a recent color photograph of 16-year-old Jessica McClure and an exclusive interview with the girl and her mother in the November 2002 issue of Ladies Home Journal, but that story doesn't have the latest news.
Jessica is no longer living with her mother and stepfather Tim Porter in Greenwood. She's in Tyler with her father.
"Jessica visited Chip for two weeks this summer, and while she was there, she asked him if she could come live with him," Proctor said. "Her parents were divorced when she was so little. She wanted to know what it's like to live with her daddy."
Proctor said Chip McClure told Jessica he'd discuss it with Jessica's mother, and soon after, he was in Greenwood helping Jessica load up her belongings. She's lived in Tyler since August and attends a private school there. Chip McClure, 33, sells airplanes for a Tyler company.
Proctor and Johnson had lunch at Rosa's Cafe in Midland with their brother and their niece before the two left West Texas.
"Jessica is tall and thin like her daddy," Proctor said. "She's all legs and arms. She's just a normal teenage girl who always has a smile. She's a very loving, respectful child. Cissy and Chip have always tried to make her life as normal as possible. She doesn't even have her driver's license yet. And when she gets it, there won't be a fancy new car waiting for her in the driveway."
Johnson said she talked to her brother about two weeks ago, and he said Jessica was adjusting well to school.
"She asked her dad not to tell anybody at her new school who she was-- that she was the little girl who fell down the well," Johnson said. "She wanted to know that people liked her for who she was. And when the other kids found out, they just told her they think it's cool'."
Both sisters said they'll never forget the outpouring of concern for Jessica that came to the family from around the world in the hours the little girl was trapped underground.
"If you look at the photographs of people straining to see over the fence and watch the rescue efforts, all you have to do is look at their faces and their clenched hands to know they were there out of genuine concern, not morbid curiosity," Johnson said.
"The whole world was pulling for her. People from all over the world were calling us and anybody else in Midland-- just picking names out of the phone book-- asking how she was doing," she said. "I remember someone from Kansas calling to ask how things were coming along because she hadn't heard anything on her local news for three hours. I even talked to a radio operator from Australia."
Johnson said a reporter sent to Midland from New York to cover the story told her that when the news of the baby in the well first hit the wire service, it wasn't a hot news item. But when reports started coming in that the toddler was singing songs to comfort herself while she lay twisted in a pipe several feet underground, the story found its way into hearts around the world.
"Here in Midland, it felt like the world stopped for three days," Proctor said. "It took a whole lot of people to get Jessica out-- from the news reporters to the firemen, the policemen, the people passing out food and the everyday people who just stopped to help dig. Everybody was there to do one thing, and that was help a little girl. It seemed like an impossible task. They kept breaking bit after bit as they drilled through the caliche. God had his hand in that well holding Jessica, saying You better hurry up and get down here'."
Searching for the words to describe the emotional impact of the event, Proctor at last hit upon what she said summed up the moment in time that lasted for days.
"Everybody suddenly stopped and realized there's more to life than working to get ahead," she said. "The world stopped to help a little girl. For one brief moment when the call went out, everyone showed up."
Proctor said she'll never forget the look of utter helplessness and frustration on the faces of the men who dug tirelessly. Nor will she forget the tears, the cheers and the honking car horns when the rescued girl was on her way to Midland Memorial Hospital.
"As a big sister and an aunt, I remember the people who were thinking of us and praying for Jessica," Proctor said. "I want to thank them and let them know their prayers were answered."





